


Just a Little Bit Longer

by mrs_t2019



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: All the cuddles, Crying Peter Parker, Everyone is fine, F/M, Fever, Gen, James “Bucky” Barnes is a good uncle, James “Bucky” Barnes is good bro, May is Dead, Nightmares, Pepper potts is a good mom, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poor Peter Parker, Post-Infinity War, Probably ooc, Sick Peter Parker, Sore throat, Steve Rogers is a good uncle, Steve gives Peter a bath, Tony Stark is a Good Dad, Un-Beta’d, all the hugs, dr. banner, ear infections, married Tony/Pepper, miserable Peter Parker, no scene for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 12:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15582402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_t2019/pseuds/mrs_t2019
Summary: “FRIDAY, what’s going on? What time is it?” Steve asked as he shook off the exhaustion and stood.“1:48 AM, sir. Mr. Parker’s heart rate and body temperature have spiked. I believe he may be ill, as well as having a nightmare,” FRIDAY replied, sounding as worried as an AI could. “You’ll need to wake him and lower his body temperature, quickly.”Steve, fully alert now, threw on a t-shirt and some sweatpants before quickly making his way down the hall to Peter’s room.





	1. Chapter 1

Steve jerked awake with a start, wondering what exactly caused him to wake so suddenly. His eyelids were heavy, his bed was warm, and his pillow so inviting. But _something_ had woken him. He blinked several times, rubbing his hand against his eyes, and sat up. A feminine mechanical voice startled him.

“Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark has asked that I keep whomever may be closest to consciousness apprised of young Mr. Parker’s nighttime activities, within reason of course,” FRIDAY said over the intercom. Steve was confused in his sleep-addled state. “Captain Rogers, please stand. It will help you focus.”

“FRIDAY, what’s going on? What time is it?” Steve asked as he shook off the exhaustion and stood.

“1:48 AM, sir. Mr. Parker’s heart rate and body temperature have spiked. I believe he may be ill, as well as having a nightmare,” FRIDAY replied, sounding as worried as an AI could. “You’ll need to wake him and lower his body temperature, quickly.”

Steve, fully alert now, threw on a t-shirt and some sweatpants before quickly making his way down the hall to Peter’s room. The cold tile shocked him a bit as he realized he didn’t put on any socks. Tony, Steve, Bucky, and Peter each had rooms on one side of the housing floor of the compound. Peter was initially supposed to be next to Vision on the other side, but after the ordeal with Thanos, Tony wanted Peter closer to him. Seeing as Tony was off with Pepper on their honeymoon, though, taking care of him was up to everyone else. Steve hurried past Bucky’s room and held down a button on the panel for Peter’s door, speaking into the intercom.

“Peter, you okay?” he called softly, not wanting to wake the others, as he pressed his ear to the door. Tony had soundproofed all of the rooms, but everyone had a tablet inside their rooms to control the soundproofing, the intercom, lights, and electronics. If it weren’t for Steve’s enhanced hearing, he would not have caught it: a whimper. Shuffling of sheets. A cry. “Peter, open the door.”

No response. Steve sighed and entered his override code to unlock the door, his eyes taking only a moment to adjust to the darkness. He closed the door behind him and locked it with the additional panel Tony had installed.

“FRIDAY, lights at 40 percent, please,” Steve instructed and the lights came on just a bit. Enough for Steve’s heart to clench at the sight in front of him: Peter thrashing on the king size bed, sweat and tears pouring down his face, sheets tangled around his legs. He rushed to Peter’s side, sitting on the edge of the left side of the bed and taking hold of Peter’s shoulders, his left leg folded up to brace himself as he leaned forward. “Peter, wake up. Peter. It’s just a dream.”

“N-No! Stop! Please,” Peter whimpered brokenly, fighting against Steve’s hold, kicking his legs and trying to push him away.

Steve could feel the heat radiating off of Peter, thinking that FRIDAY had undersold the seriousness of the situation. He could hear and feel the boy’s lungs heaving, his heart pounding, and the continuous rise of his temperature. This wasn’t good. He didn’t want him to get any hotter, but he wasn’t left with much of a choice at this point. He scooted closer to Peter on the bed so he could get a grip on him, quickly wrapping his left arm over and around his thighs and his right under his shoulders before hauling him into his lap, turning to plant his own feet on the ground. His calves were pressed up against the side of the mattress, leaving him enough room to lay Peter’s feet at the head of the bed without them falling off. He held Peter’s thighs still, lifting him up by shoulders to his chest in a one-armed hug as he pressed his lips to his ear.

“Peter, you gotta wake up. It’s not real. Come on, open your eyes for me,” he said firmly, but gently. It wasn’t working. He pulled back and mentally apologized before he let go of Peter’s legs and shook his right shoulder firmly, calling his name. Still nothing. Peter continued to struggle, though not quite as much, and cry, panting. Steve cupped his right cheek with his left hand for a moment before patting it with as much force as he dared, not anywhere near a slap. “Peter, you need to open your eyes. Wake. _Up_.”

Peter surged up with a gasp, his eyes flying open and Steve barely flinching back in time to avoid losing teeth. The boy grabbed Steve’s shirt at his chest in his right hand, not quite knowing what was going on. His heightened senses kicked in, though, and he slammed his eyes shut. Immediately, flashes of his nightmare came back to him and he had to open them again, groaning at the light flooding in. Steve knew what was going on, as this wasn’t his first rodeo with the teenager, so he used his left hand to turn Peter’s face into his chest.

“FRIDAY, Peter’s sensory protocol,” Steve said softly, not wanting to overwhelm him. The lights slowly dimmed to about 15 percent. He felt how stiff Peter’s body was and oh-so-gently pulled him back to look at his face, brushing his curls out of his face. Peter was still panting, fear taking over as he looked unseeing into Steve’s eyes. “Hey, you’re okay, Pete. Come on, come back. I’m here with you.”

Steve continued his soft mantra for another minute, happy to see that Peter was beginning to focus. He wasn’t happy, however, at the flush that deepened on the boy’s cheeks, neck, and ears. The sweat continued dripping down his face, mixing with the tears.

“S-Steve?” he choked out, confused. Steve smiled down at him.

“Yeah, bud, you’re all right. It’s okay,” he soothed. “Bad dream?”

“Yeah,” Peter said in a cracked voice, sniffling and trying not to cry. Trying, but failing. His face contorted in despair and he hiccuped. Steve’s heart broke and he tutted, pulling Peter up and wrapping his arms around his torso, feeling him holding tightly to his left shoulder with his right hand.

“It’s all right. It was just a nightmare. You’re okay.” He let Peter hang onto him for a minute more before FRIDAY’s voice came over the intercom.

“Captain Rogers, you need to lower Mr. Parker’s temperature. It’s getting dangerously high.” He felt Peter flinch at the AI’s voice, startled. He shushed him and rubbed his back as he coughed wetly.

“All right, let’s get you cleaned up. Can you stand?”

“I-I think so.” Peter released his shoulders and Steve braced him at the small of his back with his right hand, holding his left arm with the other as he slid off his lap. Steve waited a moment while Peter tested his balance, but it was fortunate that he held onto him, as Peter nearly fell to the ground in his sickly state. “I’m sorry!”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Steve said as he lifted and cradled him. Peter let his head fall to Steve’s shoulder, body trembling. The soldier walked to the bathroom across from the bed as carefully as he could, not wanting to jostle the teenager too much. “Can you go to the bathroom while I fill the tub and change the sheets?”

“You don’t have to do that, Ca--Steve,” Peter stuttered, not quite used to calling Steve by his name.

“Hush, it’s fine,” Steve said, leaving no room for argument. The lights were dimmed in the bathroom, but both Steve and Peter could see just fine. Steve set Peter on his feet, keeping an arm around his waist while he lifted the toilet lid. He sat Peter down. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m okay,” Peter replied stubbornly. Steve rolled his eyes and walked to the tub, setting a couple of towels from the cabinet in the corner on the edge. It was really quite genius how Tony had it configured. He didn’t want the sound of the water hurting Peter’s ears, so he’d had it built so that the water flooded in from rectangular openings in the sidewalls. In addition, all of the tubs on the compound had internal temperature regulators so as to not waste water in a long bath that would’ve gone cold. He also included what looked like a salon sink at both ends of the tub, sprayer and all. It was really quite impressive.

“FRIDAY, could you fill Peter’s tub, please?” Steve asked.

“Certainly, Captain Rogers. I’ve adjusted it to be the optimal temperature to lower his fever,” the AI said.

“Thank you,” Steve replied. He ruffled Peter’s hair as he walked past him to change the sheets and grab him a fresh pair of pajamas. “Don’t move until I get back.”

Peter managed to slip his pants down as he sat and used the toilet. He waved his hand at the side and the toilet flushed. Not wanting to be completely exposed, he leaned forward to grab his pants from the floor to cover himself, but vertigo hit and he fell forward with a cry, hitting his head on the tile. The sound and pain radiated through his skull, his hands flying up to his ears as he let out another cry, this one of pain, as he curled up on his right side and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard the thumping of Steve’s feet, thanking all the gods that he wasn’t wearing shoes that would make the noise louder.

“Oh, Pete,” Steve said sympathetically as he laid the clothes in the counter and knelt next to him, remembering that feeling of things being just too loud when he first got the serum. He pulled another towel off the cabinet and laid it over his lower half. Peter shivered on the cold tile, still clutching his ears as he moaned.

He remembered the earbuds that Tony had made for Peter for when sounds became too overwhelming as he saw him pulling at his right ear, so he reached up and grabbed the case from the counter. No bigger than a silver dollar, the case charged the earbuds and sanitized them with UV. Steve popped the lid off with his thumb and took them out of the case, gently sliding the right one under Peter’s hand and pressing it in. Peter visibly relaxed and opened his eyes to look up at Steve. The same was done to his left ear and he let out a shaky sigh of relief, feeling the seal cutting off most sounds. The earbuds had a microphone and speakers with volume that could be adjusted on the case or a mobile device. Steve turned the volume to 1 and spoke softly as he stroked Peter’s head.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Peter nodded slowly. “What happened?”

“Dizzy. Tried to...get my pants,” Peter replied just as soft. Steve nodded, turning him onto his back so he could look at the left side of his head. He didn’t dare touch the bump he saw. Peter turned his head toward Steve’s knee and coughed again with a wince and Steve reached for a tissue to hold to his mouth.

“Spit it out. You’ve got a bump, but it’ll probably go away in a few hours.” Peter did as he was told. How embarrassing was this? Captain America holding his mucus in a tissue while he laid half-naked on the floor. Steve didn’t think twice about it, tossing the tissue into the toilet.

“Captain, bath. _Now_ ,” FRIDAY said insistently. Luckily the earbuds were also completely waterproof. Steve reached over Peter to reach into the tub and test the water. It was cooler than would be comfortable. He paused and sighed, flicking the water off his hand and spreading a towel on the floor.

“All right, pal, this is gonna be cold, but we gotta get your fever down,” he said, helping him sit up so he could remove the kid’s shirt.

“Don’ like cold water,” Peter slurred. He was becoming delirious with the fever. Steve knew Peter’s history with cold water, how the Vulture had dropped him in the lake, or when he’d buried him under that building, the water inches from him face.

“I know, but I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve said, guilt rushing through him. Peter had hit his head because he wasn’t there. It wouldn’t happen again.

He lifted him in his arms and carefully, slowly settled him in the cool water, moving his right hand to support his neck. Peter became frantic, grabbing for Steve’s arm as he gasped at the temperature. Steve let him squeeze his left hand in his, the boy’s right hand clutching the inner edge of the tub. The panic and discomfort were evident in his eyes that he kept glued to the water, trying to overcome it all. Steve leaned up on his knees and pulled Peter’s head to his chest with his right hand, resting his bearded chin on his hair.

“15 minutes should be sufficient, Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY stated, sensing Peter’s heart rate rising.

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” Steve said, doing his best to calm Peter. “I know it’s cold, buddy. Just hang in there for me.”

“S-S-Steve,” Peter moaned, his grip on Steve’s hand growing weak.

“Shh, I know. I know. It’s gonna be okay. I’m here. Poor thing, I know you don’t feel good,” he replied. He leaned Peter’s head back against the curve in the sink, turning the sprayer to a gentle shower setting. He cupped some water in his hand and poured it over Peter’s sweat-drenched hair, his hisses and gasps filling him to the brim with heartache. Steve had been there. He knew how awful it was. “Hey, let’s get your hair clean, huh?”

Peter didn’t respond, just looked up at him through fever-bright eyes. Steve leaned down to give him a rare kiss on the forehead, whispering again that he would be all right, before moving to sit on the edge of the tub. He grabbed Peter’s shampoo and squeezed it into his palm before working it into his hair, gently massaging the mint-scented concoction into his scalp. He rinsed his left hand before covering Peter’s eyes, being careful of the bump on his forehead, and spraying the shampoo out. Peter began relaxing, exhausted from all the tension and stress.

“Mr. Parker’s body temperature is almost down to the appropriate temperature, Captain Rogers. I’ll turn the heater on for a bit,” FRIDAY said. Steve felt the water change to lukewarm, just barely over the cool temperature it was. Most of the tension left Peter’s body with a shuddering sigh.

“You’re doing great, Pete,” Steve told him as he rinsed the second round out of his hair. Tony’s mannerisms had rubbed off on Peter, as evidenced by the expensive bottle of conditioner Steve saw. He took it in his hand and quickly read the instructions before putting it in his hair and rinsing his hand again. He wet a washcloth with the sprayer and gently, carefully washed Peter’s face, removing the sweat and tears from the seemingly delicate skin. He then poured some body wash onto it and dipped it in the water, squeezing a bit to distribute it. Peter watched him, his eyes half-lidded. “Almost done, okay? Don’t fall asleep yet.”

“‘K,” Peter answered, hiccuping. He was so thirsty, but he didn’t want to bother Steve. His throat felt like it had blades in it, his eyes felt swollen, and his muscles hurt. Since when did he get sick? He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so ill. The water was warmer, but did nothing for his congestion, especially after being in it while it was cold. He let his head fall back into the curve of the sink while Steve washed his body, the pillow providing adequate support, and closed his eyes, turning his head away as he coughed, feeling the mucus going into his mouth.

“Spit,” Steve instructed again, helping him sit up a bit so he could turn around and spit into the sink before quickly rinsing it down. Peter couldn’t take it anymore.

“‘M thirsty,” he said softly, his voice hoarse.

“Okay, I’ll get you some water while you do the rest,” Steve told him, knowing that Peter would be mortified if he cleaned his private area for him. He handed him the washcloth and stood, getting him some water from the sink in a paper cup on the counter. He waited about a minute and a half before turning back around, seeing that Peter had laid the washcloth on the inner edge of the tub and leaned his head back again, eyes closed. He walked a little louder than normal so Peter knew he was coming. The boy opened his eyes as he sat down again, pressing the small cup to his lips. He winced at each swallow, the movement hurting his throat. When he finished, Steve tossed the cup in the garbage and turned the sprayer on. “We’ll get you out after this, okay, bud?”

Peter nodded and closed his eyes. Steve covered them anyway, directing the spray at his hair to rinse the conditioner out. He moved his hand through the now silky locks, covering his ears as he went. Once he had gotten all of it out, he asked FRIDAY to drain the tub and gave Peter a quick rinse with the larger sprayer on the side of it, making sure to get all the soap and dirty water off him.

“All right, we’re finished. Can you hang onto me?” Steve asked as he stood. Peter nodded and reached both arms up, looking very much like a lost child. Steve’s heart twisted in his chest and he leaned down to lift him out, not caring that his shirt was getting soaked. He settled him on the towel on the floor and wrapped it around his waist with one hand, finally giving him some dignity, as he held him up, letting him lean sideways into his chest. Grabbing another towel, he put it around his shoulders and moved him to sit back against the side of the tub. He got yet another towel and began carefully squeezing the water from Peter’s hair. It didn’t take long until it was mostly dry, but Steve didn’t want to take any chances. “Pete, I’m gonna turn your sound off so I can get your hair dry.”

Peter nodded, not really understanding, goosebumps appearing on his skin at the cool air. Steve helped him stand after laying the towel he used on his hair over the bar on the wall. He led him to the sink and used his knees to press against the back of Peter’s thighs, holding him steady with a hand to his chest. Peter braced his hands on the counter, still not quite grasping the situation. He’d registered something about getting his hair dry. Steve reached for the earbud case and muted the microphone...and Peter was NOT ready. He fell backwards with a gasp, pushing into Steve’s chest. The soldier quickly unmuted the earbuds and wrapped his arms around him, reaching his hand up to push through his hair.

“Easy, easy! I’ve got you. You’re okay,” he soothed, hugging him from behind. Peter trembled, clutching his arm tightly. He would’ve bruised anyone else. Steve rubbed his arm and leaned his chin on top of his head. “I’m sorry, buddy. I thought you heard me say I was turning your sound off.”

“No...I-I mean...maybe?” Peter said, his heart rate steadying as his other mentor comforted him. How had he not heard him say that? Or did he and he just forgot? He looked around frantically, trying to remember. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

“You’re fine. You’re just sick is all. Everything’s okay. But I gotta get your hair dry.” Peter nodded, now fully aware of what was going on. Steve held the device in front of him so he could see him muting them, feeling him giving him a squeeze before helping him stand straight again and letting go, still holding him against the counter with his knees. Steve showed him the hair dryer and a flat brush he’d pulled from a drawer and turned it on, blowing it on his hand so he could feel it before moving to dry his hair. It was an expensive hair dryer that was known for its power, so it took less than two minutes for Peter’s hair to dry completely. He put the items away and laid a hand on Peter’s left bicep, showing him the case again as he unmuted him. “Okay, let’s get you dressed.”

Peter held the counter with one hand as Steve helped him with his boxers and sleep pants from behind. He rubbed a shaking hand over his face, covering his eyes in embarrassment until the bottoms were on. He knew Steve wouldn’t look, but still. He felt him take his hand from his face and put his arm through a sleeve, grabbing onto him when it was time for the other one.

“There, all done. Can you walk back to your room?”

“I can try,” Peter said without confidence. Steve pulled back to let him try to stand on his own, keeping a hand on his back. When Peter tried to take a step forward, he found he couldn’t move his feet and shook his head in defeat. Steve picked him up again and walked into the bedroom, laying him on the freshly changed bed. He was glad he had turned the sheets down earlier. Peter turned onto his left side and pulled his feet up under himself, tucking them together. Steve quickly grabbed some socks from his dresser and put them on for him, smoothing the fabric out before pulling the blanket over him and tucking it around his shoulders.

“I’m gonna change my clothes and grab you a drink. I’ll be right back,” he said softly, turning to walk out. Peter’s hand shot out and he sat up a bit, panic flowing through him as he gripped Steve’s arm. Steve turned back around, confused. When he saw the fear in Peter’s eyes, he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled him into a hug, sighing and rubbing his back. “It’s okay, Pete. I’ll come right back, I promise.”

“Please, don’t go,” Peter whimpered, burying his face in his chest. Steve looked at the clock on the nightstand. 3:04 AM. Bucky might be awake.

“FRIDAY, can you ask Bucky to bring me some pajamas and a glass of water?”

“Already done, sir. He should arrive in 8 seconds. I’ve unlocked the door for him and apprised him of the situation.” As if on cue, a soft knock sounded and the door opened. Bucky came in still wearing his own t-shirt and sweatpants, holding Steve’s pajamas and the glass of water, shutting the door behind him.

“You okay?” he asked Steve, setting the glass down carefully on the nightstand. Steve nodded and patted Peter’s back, pulling away and cupping his cheeks.

“Bucky’s gonna sit with you while I change. Just for a little bit,” he told him, seeing the protest starting in his eyes. Peter nodded and sniffled, breathing through his mouth a bit. Steve laid Peter back against the pillows, feeling his fever through his clothes again.

“Sirs, I’ve contacted Dr. Banner to examine Mr. Parker,” FRIDAY announced. Steve sighed in relief and thanked the AI before taking his clothes into the bathroom and shutting the door.

“Move over, kid,” Bucky said, sliding under the blanket and taking Peter’s spot on the left side. He leaned back against the pillows so he could put his flesh arm around Peter’s shoulders, pulling him to rest his head on his chest. He looked down to see Peter staring at the bathroom door, as if he could open it by sheer willpower. With a sad sigh, Bucky moved his hand up to play with Peter’s hair, pulling his fingers through it soothingly. He knew from FRIDAY that Peter was sick, but didn’t realize just how sick as he felt the heat pouring off of him. “Not feeling too great, huh?”

“Mm mm,” Peter moaned, shaking his head into Bucky’s chest. He had wrapped his left arm around his own stomach and laid his right one on Bucky’s torso, fisting the blanket near his mouth.

“Banner’ll fix you up,” he told him, seeing his eyes fluttering as the boy fought to stay awake. “Close your eyes, little man. Try and sleep.”

“S-Steve’s n’t h-here,” Peter argued, trying to lift his head. Bucky held it easily to his chest, though, and tried to calm him.

“He’ll be back in a minute, kid, I promise. Just relax,” he said. He knew about Peter’s hypersensitivity, so he kept his voice low and his touch light. “You want some water?”

“Please.” Bucky sat them up, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get him to sleep without Steve, and helped him lean back against the pillows.

He was glad he’d had the foresight to put a straw in the glass. He’d had no idea of Peter’s exact state and erred on the side of caution. He reached over with his metal hand and picked up the glass, being so careful not to shatter it, and put the straw in Peter’s mouth. He saw him wince every time he swallowed and laid a hand on the back of his neck, stroking his skin with his thumb. Seeing that he was finished halfway through, Bucky set the glass down. Peter continued to fight sleep, still watching the door. Every few seconds his eyes would close, jerking back open with a start.

“Okay, Pete, time to lay down,” he said, bracing Peter’s head with his right hand and using his left to lift him just enough to be able to slide him into a prone position, tossing one of his pillows on the floor. Bucky then moved to lay on his right side, facing Peter and leaning his head on his flesh hand, his metal one coming to rest on Peter’s stomach. Peter’s head fell to the side so he could look at his friend. Bucky gave him a small smile and rubbed his stomach, noticing the bump on his forehead. “How’d that happen?”

“Fell...in the b’thr’m,” Peter slurred.

“Ouch. I’m sure it’ll go away soon. Can’t have that pretty little face banged up when Stark gets back,” Bucky joked, feeling Peter’s stomach hitch in a silent laugh.

“Not pretty,” he said, no heat behind his words. Bucky chuckled and sighed.

“You sure you won’t try and get some sleep?” he asked, trying one last time. Peter shook his head. “Nightmares?”

Peter nodded, his eyes taking on a darkness. Bucky took his right hand in his left and slid closer, pulling their hands to his own chest to ground him.

“We’re here for you, kid. Don’t forget that.” A knock at the door pulled them from their thoughts and it slid open, Bruce walking in with his medical bag.

“Hey there. I heard you haven’t been feeling well tonight,” he said with a small smile to mask his concern.

As he went to sit on the right edge of the bed, the bathroom door opened and Steve walked out, dropping the towels they’d used earlier in Peter’s laundry basket. Peter’s face lit up when he saw him and he reached his left hand out to him as he rounded the bed. Bucky moved from his spot and let Steve take it as he caught Peter’s hand in his left. He could see the tension leave Peter’s body as soon as Steve laid down, so he laid on his back behind him, not wanting to leave if he was needed.

“Sorry that took so long, pal. Tony called,” Steve said, laying exactly as Bucky had been.

“So, what’s going on? FRIDAY said Peter has a fever and hit his head?” Bruce asked, laying the back of his hand on Peter’s cheek, then his forehead, careful of the bump there.

“I came to check on him and FRIDAY said his temp was too high. I got him cooled down in the bath, but he fell and hit his head,” Steve told him, raising his head a bit so he could briefly stroke Peter’s hair with his right hand.

“Cover his eyes for me,” Bruce instructed, pulling out his pen light. Steve rubbed Peter’s hand before releasing it to lay his over the boy’s eyes. Peter jumped a bit, having been dozing since Steve’s return. “You’re okay, Peter. I just wanna take a look at you.”

Bruce turned on the light and pulled Peter’s mouth open, looking into his throat. He winced at what he saw: mucus coating the angry red. It looked painful. He then held a palm-sized device to his chest, holding a button and waiting 30 seconds. He released it and pressed another button. A recording of Peter’s lungs began playing, sounding wet and wheezing.

“Just a couple more things, Pete, and you can get some sleep. I wanna check your ears first, so we gotta take your earbuds out. I need everyone totally quiet for him,” he said, waiting for Peter to nod.

Bruce removed the earbuds and set them on the nightstand before pulling out his magnifying tool and carefully inserting it into Peter’s right ear, then turning the boy’s head and leaning over to look into his left. Peter groaned at the movement, flinching when the tool entered his ears. Bruce lightly patted his chest when he finished, a silent apology. He took out another device that looked like a pen and got Peter to look at him, pointing to his own eyes and closing them in an indication that he wanted Peter to do the same. When he did, he turned the device on and a soft blue line of light shot out, scanning Peter’s face as he held it in front of him and moved from his forehead to his chin. Peter flinched again at the light coming through his eyelids and whimpered, trying to turn his face into Steve’s chest to the right of him. Bruce wouldn’t let him, though, and gently held his chin in his hand. He only needed 15 more seconds.

“Shh,” he soothed as quietly as he could. To anyone else, it wouldn’t have sounded like anything. To the three super humans, it was just below a gentle whisper. When the scan finished, he put Peter’s earbuds back in for him before putting the scanner away and taking out his tablet to view the diagnosis, turning the brightness to ten percent. He looked through it, nodding occasionally.

“What’re we looking at, Bruce?” Steve asked, letting Peter turn onto his side and holding him close. Peter’s arms were tucked between their chests as he breathed heavily, face pointed down and to the right so he could get some air. The teenager never understood how people cuddled in movies face to face. How the hell did they breathe?

“Sinus infection and double ear infection. That right one is on fire. We can do ear drops and antibiotics, but they’ll have to be strong for him. For Peter to get both of these at once, the strains have to be insanely strong. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him and that fever, especially,” Bruce rattled off, reaching down to rub Peter’s back. He had more to say, but didn’t want Peter to get upset. “Bucky, could you stay with him while Steve and I go get the medication?”

“You got it, just gotta hit the head real quick,” Bucky said sleepily, getting up to go to the bathroom. Steve looked down at Peter, seeing that his eyes were closed. He hated to move him when he finally settled down.

“Peter, can you lay with Bucky for a few minutes?” Peter just snuggled closer, not wanting Steve to leave him again. It was as if Steve could read his mind. “Just for a bit, all right? You love Bucky. He won’t leave you.”

Steve felt a hitch in Peter’s breath and his back tense up. Worried, he pulled back a bit, lifting Peter’s face by his chin. Tears welled up in the teenager’s eyes, but there was no real fear. Just exhaustion, pain, and discomfort. He pushed Peter’s hair out of his eyes and stroked his temple with his thumb, pulling him forward to press his lips against the hot forehead before holding him close again.

“You don’t do well with being sick, do you, bud?” Peter shook his head slowly, sniffling a bit. Whether it was from the tears or the congestion, Steve didn’t know. Bucky came back out and leaned over the right side of the bed, putting his flesh hand on Peter’s right shoulder and feeling him start. Peter had heard him, but he felt so safe with Steve right now.

“Come on, Pete. It’s okay. You’re all right,” Bucky said, reaching down to grip Peter’s left side with his metal hand so he could gently pull him away from Steve. Thankfully, Peter didn’t fight him and let Steve go. He cradled the sick teen in his lap after picking him up and sitting down at the headboard, smiling down at him as he let his head fall to Bucky’s shoulder. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“I’ll be back in a while. Thanks, Buck,” Steve said as he walked out with Bruce and closed the door behind him. He pressed the button to soundproof both sides of the door and leaned back against the wall with a heavy sigh, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes. He dropped his hands and blinked a few times before looking at Bruce, who was rubbing his hands together. “What’s up? I know there was more.”

“I’m worried that anything we do isn’t going to help the pain. As children, ear infections are horrible. As adults, not so much. With Peter’s heightened senses, though, it could possibly be as bad, if not worse, than if a toddler had it. Anything we give him either won’t work or it will, but only for a few minutes. With his healing factor, a normal strain would heal in about two days with antibiotics, but this one is different. We could be looking at five to seven, and that’s with him in constant pain until the swelling goes down. I can see if I can come up with some numbing drops, but I don’t know how long they’ll last.” Bruce had an incredibly worried look on his face, knowing the pain of ear infections. They were no walk in the park.

“So what do to we do?” Steve asked, becoming concerned. He didn’t want Peter in constant pain.

“For the moment? Keep him comfortable. Tea, electrolytes, soft food. No extreme temperatures. A pill in the morning and at night, ear drops when he needs them as soon as I figure out how to make them,” Bruce said dejectedly. “I’ll have the pills in a few hours and I’ll go start working on the ear drops.”

“Thanks, Bruce. I’ll let you know how it goes tonight,” Steve replied, patting him on the shoulder before walking to the kitchen. He might as well make the kid some tea while he was up. He boiled some water and let it cool down a bit before dropping a chamomile teabag in, watching it steep for about 5 minutes. It was now 4:00. He wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep tonight. He added some honey and lemon juice before walking back to Peter’s room and opening the door quietly.

The scene in front of him stopped him in his tracks: Peter curled up in Bucky’s lap facing away from the door, Bucky’s arms around him while the older man’s head was tilted down a bit so he could speak to him in a low tone, the blanket covering their legs. Bucky looked worried as he rubbed Peter’s back. Steve couldn’t see Peter’s face, as it was hidden in Bucky’s shirt. He watched as Bucky sighed softly and tucked Peter’s head under his chin, bringing his right hand up to hold the side of his face. Their eyes met and Steve squinted, a question on his face.

 _Pain_ , Bucky mouthed, lightly scratching Peter’s hair. Steve nodded and settled himself on the right side of the bed, laying his arm along the pillows behind Bucky.

“Pete, you think you can drink some of this? It’ll help your throat,” he said, handing Bucky the mug. Peter looked absolutely miserable. Cheeks flushed, nose running, ears bright red, tears streaming down his cheeks from swollen, puffy eyes that were glazed with confusion and fever. Steve’s throat tightened sympathetically, but he forced a smile when Peter nodded. Bucky took the mug and let Peter wrap shaking fingers around it, holding it steady while he brought it to his mouth and sipped. He could only manage three swallows before he pushed it away.

“I’m sorry. Thank you,” he croaked, his voice rough and tortured.

“Stop apologizing. It’s fine,” Bucky admonished gently. Steve reached for a tissue from the nightstand after setting the mug down and handing it to Bucky, who wiped Peter’s mouth and nose with it before sinking it into the trash can. Peter’s eyes closed and he leaned on Bucky’s shoulder, his lips parting so he could breathe. Bucky turned to whisper in Steve’s ear. “His ears and throat are killing him. He can’t fall asleep. I dunno what else to do for him.”

“Okay,” Steve said, blowing out a deep breath. He looked around the room, trying to figure something out. He eyed the rocker/recliner sitting catty corner near the bathroom door. It was a stretch, but it was something. He stood and moved the mug and tissues to the small table next to the chair before going back and reaching down to scoop Peter into his arms. “Come on, pal. Let’s see what we can work out here. Buck, can you bring him a blanket?”

He sat in the large overstuffed chair with Peter in his lap, his legs dangling over the left arm. Bucky laid a soft, plush blanket over his legs and tucked it around his feet, draping another over his shoulders.

“I’ll stick around,” he said, laying down on the bed and reclining against the headboard. Steve wrapped his right arm around his shoulders, holding the blanket in place, and began rocking the chair slowly, as if soothing a baby to sleep.

Peter laid his head on the broad shoulder, still feeling absolutely miserable. On top of that, he was being rocked...by _Captain Fucking America_. He didn’t know if he should feel embarrassed or excited. He and Tony were his idols. And he’d been _cuddled_ by the former Winter Soldier. He decided feeling grateful was at the top of the list of emotions and settled into his friend’s embrace.

“Thank you,” Peter whispered in his stupor. Steve paused in his rocking for just a moment before starting again.

“For what, pal?” he asked.

“Helping...me,” the teenager replied, pausing to painfully clear his throat with a groan. Steve stopped rocking to pick up the mug in his left hand and held it while Peter took a few sips, emptying it completely this time. He set it back down and wiped Peter’s mouth and nose with a tissue again, disposing of it quickly and rocking Peter gently again.

“You don’t ever have to thank us for helping. That’s what we’re here for,” he said, bringing his hand up to feel his forehead. His fever was steady, not rising, but not lowering any more. Steve knew that was better than earlier, but he was still worried. It was like Peter’s healing factor wasn’t working. “You gotta try and get some sleep, Pete.”

Peter wanted to object, but his throat hurt so bad. The tea helped for a minute or two, then he was back to miserable. He just shook his head and clutched Steve’s shirt front, laying his head on the spot between his shoulder and chest.

Steve sighed and ran his left hand through Peter’s hair, hoping that and the rocking motion would lull him to sleep. He’d remembered his mother doing this for him when he was 15 and sick as a dog. He was a lot smaller then, so she easily cuddled him on her lap as she rocked him in the wooden rocking chair. That was before she’d gotten sick...Shaking his head a bit, he pushed that sorrow back and focused on the boy in his arms.

“Miss T’ny ‘nd Pep’r,” Peter said with a hiccup. A lightbulb went off for Steve.

“Let’s give ‘em a call. They should be awake. It’s probably around three in the afternoon for them,” Steve suggested. Peter perked up a bit, but then dropped again.

“Don’ wanna bother ‘m,” he whispered so as to avoid anymore pain.

“Oh please, they always have time for you,” Steve said with a smile. Tony already knew that Peter was sick. Steve had filled him in when he called in a near panic after FRIDAY had alerted him to the boy’s condition. He laid a small device from the chair side table on Peter’s lap. “FRIDAY, video chat Tony. Keep the volume low.”

A 20-inch square was projected into the air in front of them, “Connecting...” being displayed in small white letters in the middle. It only took one ring for Tony and Pepper to appear on the screen, Tony in a loose white button-down shirt and Pepper in what may have been a sundress, sitting on their bed in their hotel with Tony’s arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, Spider-Baby!” Tony greeted softly with more enthusiasm than would’ve been necessary for a teenager, but he was worried for his kid. He and Pepper had taken him in when May had gotten sick, and he wasn’t about to let some infection take him too.

“Hi,” Peter wheezed with a wince. Steve saw Tony’s left eye twitch a bit in the corner at that, and Pepper gave an _aww_.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Pepper asked with a smile. Peter tried to answer, but fell into a coughing fit. Steve grabbed the projector in his left hand and switched it to his right that was around Peter, getting another tissue with his left and holding it to Peter’s mouth. “Oh, honey. You poor thing.”

“He’s not doing too well right now,” Steve answered, tossing the tissue after Peter got rid of the mucus. He looked up and saw that Bucky had knelt in front of them with the glass of water, his hand on Peter’s head. Steve changed hands with the projector again, holding Peter steady as Bucky helped him drink.

“Pretty good bedside manner there, Capsicle Lite,” Tony said, eyeing Bucky suspiciously. Steve rolled his eyes, but blushed at Bucky’s next words.

“Yeah, well, Steve here was sick all the time when we were younger. Guess who got to take care of him.”

“Shut up, Bucky,” Steve said through gritted teeth. “Anyway, Bruce said he has a double ear infection and a sinus infection. He’s working on some ear drops for him and some antibiotics. Gotta say, Tony, those earbuds you made for him are a Godsend.”

“Yeah? They working for you, buddy?” Tony asked in a fatherly tone, keeping his pitch low. Peter pulled back from the now-empty glass and all but collapsed on Steve, nodding as he looked at Tony.

“Be right back,” Bucky said, passing his hand over Peter’s hair before walking out of the room.

“His ears are still hurting, but not from sounds,” Steve told him, setting the projector on Peter’s lap again. He put his left arm around Peter’s waist to secure him and rubbed his back with his right hand. Peter cleared his throat a bit, slightly upset that Tony and Pepper were worrying about him right now.

“‘M sorry, Mr. Stark. I di’nt wanna b’thr you guys,” he managed to say, panting by the end of it. Pepper clicked her tongue and sympathy poured off of her in droves.

“Honey, you’re not bothering us at all,” she told him, giving him a lovely smile.

“Yeah, seriously, we’re literally just sitting here before we have to start getting ready to head back,” Tony added. “Besides, you’re our little Spiderling. You gotta take care of us when we’re old and decrepit.”

Pepper smacked his shoulder with a laugh and Peter huffed out a small laugh. Steve smiled at the family’s interaction, glad that he was part of it. There was more he wanted to tell Tony, though, so he grabbed a secondary control for Peter’s earbuds and showed it to him.

“I’m gonna turn your sound off for a bit, Pete. Close your eyes, okay?” he said, hoping the silence and darkness would get him to sleep. Peter nodded and watched his thumb press the button to mute him, jumping a bit at the sudden silence, but settling when Steve started rocking the chair again and closing his eyes. He was so tired.

“He looks like shit. How is he really, Cap?” Tony asked, a bit worried since Steve had turned off Peter’s sound.

“He’s exhausted, but he can’t sleep. We’ve tried everything, but he’s in a lot of pain right now,” Steve told him, being truthful. “I’ve been up with him for the last three hours. The ear pain only developed in the last two. Bruce checked him over, but he doesn’t know how long this’ll last. For him to get this sick...”

“It has to be bad,” Tony finished for him. “You said something about ear drops?”

“Yeah, Bruce is working on them now.” Tony sighed, wishing he’d reconfigured the earbuds for this. “What is it?”

“That’s not gonna be pleasant, at least when he puts them in. I don’t even like them, and I don’t have super hearing. With the pain he’s already got, the sound of it going in is gonna make it even worse since it’s directly hitting his ear drum. He might get a migraine. Probably better to have someone with you and just do it for him,” he said.

“Can we do it while he’s asleep?”

“I wouldn’t. The sound will wake him up anyway and then it’ll be even worse because he’s not expecting it. Maybe it’s time we head out now,” Tony told him, looking at Pepper, who nodded.

“No, Tony, don’t cut your vacation short. We’ve got it handled. I just needed to know which route we should be going with this,” Steve said firmly, almost feeling bad for even bringing it up. He was perfectly capable of taking care of Peter.

“What’s the difference between packing tonight or now? None,” Tony retorted. “Let me talk to him.”

As if he knew, Peter twitched a bit, letting out a soft, then a harsh cough that Steve helped him wipe away. He breathed in an almost strangled breath. Steve could hear the fluid in his throat. He settled again and Steve showed him the control, waiting for him to nod before unmuting him. Peter looked up at him expectantly.

“Pete? Look here, bud,” Tony called. Peter slowly turned his eyes to the projection of his father-figure. “There he is. Look, Bruce is gonna have those ear drops ready for you soon, and I think you know it’s gonna hurt a bit. Not gonna hide anything from you. But Steve is gonna help, okay? And we’re gonna see you tomorrow night.”

“W--Why? No, d’nt leave f’r me,” Peter protested, visibly upset at having caused an issue. “‘M fine.”

“Don’t argue with me, and don’t lie. You’re not fine. We’re coming home and that’s final,” Tony said, shuddering when he realized his tone sounded just like his father.

“Everything’s going to be fine, sweetheart. Just let Steve and Bucky take care of you until we get back,” Pepper told him. Tears welled up in Peter’s eyes.

 _So this is what it’s like to have a family?_ he thought.

“Oh, Peter,” Pepper sighed with emotion. Peter froze when he heard that, feeling Steve squeeze him and press a kiss to his temple. He hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud. “We love you, baby, and we’ll see you soon.”

“Love you, kiddo. Be good for Uncle Cap,” Tony said with a smile.

“Love you, too,” Peter whispered. The call disconnected and Steve put the projector on the table. “I’m s--.”

“Shhh, relax. Just put your head down. It’s okay,” Steve soothed, stroking his hair with his right hand. He leaned his cheek on Peter’s forehead, trying to get him to fall asleep. He knew how much pain Peter was in and could only hope that he could get him to sleep until Bruce came with the ear drops. After about 20 minutes, Steve felt Peter’s breathing even out, his body going completely lax against him. With a sigh of relief, he allowed himself a reprieve and closed his eyes, too, somehow still rocking the boy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shhh, relax. Just put your head down. It’s okay,” Steve soothed, stroking his hair with his right hand. He leaned his cheek on Peter’s forehead, trying to get him to fall asleep. He knew how much pain Peter was in and could only hope that he could get him to sleep until Bruce came with the ear drops. After about 20 minutes, Steve felt Peter’s breathing even out, his body going completely lax against him. With a sigh of relief, he allowed himself a reprieve and closed his eyes, too, somehow still rocking the boy.

Steve felt slightly cold and stiff, which was unusual given the quality of mattress Stark had provided. He never felt stiff. Why was he cold? He opened his eyes and looked at the clock. 8:00 AM. Why was it so dark? Looking around, he recognized Peter’s room... _Peter_! He sat up quickly in the chair with a gasp. Where was he?!

“Calm down, Steve. You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack,” a voice came from the bed. Bucky. Steve squinted, shaking off the sleep, and his eyes focused. Bucky was laying on his left side on Peter’s bed, hair slightly damp and in clean pajamas, facing the boy who was leaned back on a pile of pillows with his eyes closed. Steve let out a sigh and stood, stretching his tight muscles.

“How’d you get him there?” he asked.

“You were both knocked out when I came back, but he woke up and needed to use the bathroom. Had to help him because he was falling asleep on the toilet. Brought him back and he fell asleep on the bed,” Bucky replied, his hand resting on Peter’s chest as he propped his head up on his metal one. “That was about 2 hours ago. I had FRIDAY pull the shades.”

“Thank God he’s finally getting some sleep.”

“Go get some coffee and something to eat. Bruce has his medicine, but I told him to hold off for a while. Take your time. He needs as much sleep as he can get,” Bucky instructed.

Steve wandered out to the kitchen and made himself a much-needed cup of coffee, starting some oatmeal on the stove while it brewed. He did as Bucky said, taking his time and cooking it slowly. Despite the fact that he wanted to get back to Peter as soon as possible, he knew that he would be no good to him if he was dead on his feet.

He managed to take about 30 minutes to finish his breakfast and coffee. He hadn’t heard anything from Bucky, so he decided to take a quick shower and change into some clean pajamas. No point in getting dressed if he was going to be sitting on a bed all day. At that point, he’d been away from Peter for about an hour and was getting antsy in his room.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes has asked me to let you know that Mr. Parker is awake and in quite a bit of pain. I’ve informed Dr. Banner and he is on his way with the medication,” FRIDAY told him. He quickly put his slippers on and walked back to Peter’s room, hearing the boy crying.

When he walked through the open door, his heart jumped into his throat. Peter was clutching both of his ears as he curled up on his right side in the middle of the bed, sobs spilling from his mouth. The earbuds lay discarded on the nightstand. His voice was hoarse and cutting into a high pitch occasionally. Bucky looked panic-stricken as he sat facing him, his hands running over his hair and back. He saw Steve and put his right hand out, palm facing him to stop, and his left index finger to his lips. Steve was confused, as he wasn’t moving, and looked behind him to see Bruce with two bottles in his hand. Knowing he needed to tell them what was going on, he pulled out his phone and sent Steve a text message.

**_Earbuds started hurting him from the pressure. Everything’s too loud now and the infection is still causing pain on top of it._ **

Steve showed the message to Bruce, who nodded. Bruce took the phone and typed something, handing it back to Steve.

 ** _We gotta get the ear drops in. That’ll help. Talk to him as quiet as you can._** Steve sent it to Bucky, but held up a finger, wanting him to wait.

 ** _Tony said the ear drops are going to cause major pain from the sound of it hitting his ear drum. It won’t be easy._** He sent it after showing Bruce, who scratched the back of his head. He waved Steve over to Peter, knowing that while it would hurt at first, within about 5 minutes, his ear would be numb.

Steve kicked his slippers off and walked silently to the left side of the bed. Anything would startle Peter right now, so he took a chance and laid his right hand on top of Bucky’s on Peter’s back, letting his thumb slide onto the slightly damp t-shirt. Peter didn’t even flinch at it. This made Steve even more worried. He used his left hand to turn Peter toward him and onto his back. The lights were still at 15 percent, but Steve could easily see the tear tracks and sweat on his brow. Even worse, Peter was squinting at the low light.

A tap on Steve’s shoulder and a damp cloth appeared next to him. Bruce must have gone to get it. He took it in his right hand and mopped Peter’s face with it, laying it on his forehead. Peter looked at him with desperation before his eyes slammed shut and he cried out, turning his head toward Bucky and still pressing his hands to his ears. Steve laid his hands lightly over Peter’s and turned his face back to him.

“Pete, look at me. Look here,” he whispered. Bruce could barely hear him 5 feet away. Peter opened his eyes again and looked at Steve, who smiled sadly. “We have your ear drops, but...it’s gonna hurt for a few minutes when it touches your ear drum. Do you understand?”

Peter released a hoarse, choked sob at that burned his throat. The poor kid was miserable.

“It’s gonna be okay. We’re right here,” Bucky said almost silently, rubbing his stomach gently. Peter looked at him, then Steve again, and nodded. Steve looked at Bruce and held his hand out for the bottle. Bruce held up three fingers and mouthed the number, indicating three drops per ear. This was going to be like breaking a bronco.Steve handed the now warm washcloth to Bruce and leaned down to kiss Peter’s forehead, staying there for a moment.

“I’m sorry, but it’ll help,” Steve whispered against his skin. Peter continued crying, but nodded.

Steve touched their foreheads together briefly before pulling back and standing, reaching down to move Peter to the edge of the bed and turning him on his left side. He knelt down on the floor and uncapped the bottle after giving it a firm shake. Bucky moved closer, ready to hold him down if necessary. Steve took Peter’s right hand down from his ear with his left and moved it to the sheets, letting him clutch them in a tight fist at his mouth. He placed his left arm over Peter’s shoulder, holding him at the back of his neck, while using his right hand to squeeze the ear drops at the edge of the cartilage, hoping the slow drain would ease some of the shock. He set the bottle on the nightstand and looked at the clock. The drops would kick in at 9:35 AM.

All of a sudden, Peter’s pupils turned to small dots as his eyes widened. A whimper escaped him, his body began trembling, and the blood drained from his face. He slowly curled into a ball as the drops made contact with his ear drum. It felt like knives stabbing his head. It fucking hurt. His eyes made contact with Steve’s fearful and apologetic ones. He tried to hold it in. He tried to stay strong. But...he couldn’t. A broken scream left him, muffled by the sheets.

“Peter,” Steve said, terrified at his reaction. He looked back at Bruce, who nodded with a hand to his mouth. This was expected. He turned back to his charge and leaned forward, holding him close with one arm, hand on the back of his head. He felt Peter latch onto his shirt and press his forehead hard against his chest. He looked at the clock. 9:33. “Two more minutes. Just two more. Almost there.”

The next two minutes were borderline torture. Peter cried into Steve’s chest as his body twitched. The older man continued whispering soothing nothings and apologies, Bucky mopping the back of Peter’s neck with the washcloth. When the two minutes were up, Peter’s twitches and screams slowly ceased. He panted through his tears and Steve slowly pulled back, stroking Peter’s cheek with his left hand. He laid his head down on his right arm so he was looking into Peter’s eyes.

“Hey,” he said with a smile. Peter could only hiccup as the tears continued. He knew they weren’t finished yet. Steve could see the fear taking over. “Everything’s okay, pal. Did it stop hurting?”

“Y-Yeah,” Peter stuttered, his breath heaving.

“That’s great! Let’s try and calm down, okay? Deep breaths. You want some water?” he asked, picking it up at Peter’s nod. Bucky, who had moved to sit at the head of the bed again, reached down and helped Peter slowly sit up, pulling him back next to him. He put his left arm around his shoulders, wary of the metal, but Peter didn’t seem to mind. It helped cool him off. Steve handed the glass to Bucky to help Peter drink and went to rinse the washcloth, feeling the heat pouring off of the boy. He came back quietly, but quickly, and cleaned the flushed face that was now leaning on Bucky’s shoulder. They sat together for another 10 minutes before Steve picked up the bottle again. Peter looked terrified. “One more, Pete, and we’re done. I promise.”

Peter’s face crumpled as it has earlier, turning into Bucky’s neck. Bucky, having set the glass down, brought his right hand up to hold him close.

“It’s okay, buddy. Your ears won’t hurt anymore after this. And Steve is gonna be gentle. Have you seen those hands? Softer than a baby,” he whispered. Peter wasn’t amused, curling up into him. Bucky rocked him a bit, letting him decide. The teenager moved on his own, laying on his right side, head in Bucky’s lap. He wrapped his right arm under and around Bucky’s left thigh, clutching his pant leg with both hands. Bucky didn’t care and laid his metal hand between his shoulders. Whatever helped. Steve got on the bed this time, sitting with his feet toward the head, and laid his left arm over Peter to hold him still again.

“Okay, pal, last one,” he said, placing the drops again at the edge of the cartilage and waiting for them to drain in.

Peter’s body was already stiff, but he froze completely now, trying to hold his sobs in. He bit his bottom lip, breaking the skin and drawing blood. Five minutes. Just five minutes. He tried reciting the periodic table backwards by number in his head. He only got ten of them when his muscles began twitching. His breathing became labored. His grip on Bucky’s leg tightened. He felt the blood from his lip sliding into his mouth. He felt...nauseous. His face went cold and clammy.

“Hang in there, Pete. One more minute,” Bucky encouraged, seeing the sickly green tinge his face took on. He looked at Steve, who was praying that Peter could hold on for just a bit longer.

Bruce appeared from his silent stance in the background, ready to help Peter run to the bathroom. At exactly five minutes, Peter couldn’t wait anymore. He sat up sluggishly and moved to scramble over Bucky. Bruce grabbed him under the arms and hauled him off the bed, leading him to the bathroom. Steve and Bucky winced at the sounds.

“Poor kid can’t catch a break,” Bucky stated.

“Tell me about it. At least his ears should stop hurting. Let’s get this sheet off. Already did it once,” Steve grumbled good-naturedly. Bucky snorted a bit and they changed the sheets once more, glad that Tony kept them well-stocked. It was ten minutes before Bruce and Peter came back out, Bruce dumping Peter’s clothes into the hamper and Peter shivering in his boxers.

“His fever went back up,” Bruce explained, seeing the concern on Steve and Bucky’s faces as they sat on the end of the bed. Peter’s legs were trembling as Bruce held him up by his left elbow and an arm around his back. Steve got up and they helped Peter walk back to the right side of the bed, laying him down on his side and pulling just a sheet over him. “I’m gonna get some cold water for this washcloth.”

“Is there anything for his throat, Doc? That sounded pretty bad,” Bucky asked from the recliner.

“Yeah, actually, I’ve got something down in the lab. I’ll bring it with.”

Bruce walked out with the washcloth that had been sitting on the nightstand. Peter reached for the comforter, but Steve sat on the edge of the bed, taking his hands and holding them.

“We gotta get your fever down again. No heavy blankets,” he said. Peter sighed shakily and coughed. Steve released his hands to pull his desk chair to his bedside, laying his right hand on his shoulder as Peter shifted down a bit with his pillow so he could grasp his right pant leg at the knee and press his forehead to it. His heart nearly burst in chest at the lump of sick child before him. He pushed a hand through Peter’s hair and heard him moan. “Do your ears still hurt?”

“Still pressure, but...no,” Peter said, still hoarse, but able to form most of a sentence.

“Good. We’ll put more drops in before these wear off,” Steve replied, still brushing his hair. “You did a great job, Pete.”

“It h-hurt so bad,” Peter whimpered, his voice cracking from the rawness of his throat.

And it had. He didn’t remember a time he’d been in so much pain. He felt like such a child right now. All he wanted was comfort and love. He remembered how May would cuddle and soothe him when he was sick, just like Steve and Bucky had done. She would let him sit in her lap, rocking him and patting his bottom until he fell asleep. He wouldn’t ask them to do that, but he had no problem with his next action whatsoever. He sat up and, with a bit of help from Steve, slid onto his lap where he sat in the chair, tucking his arms between their chests and pushing his head under his chin, his legs resting on the bed under the blanket.

“I know, baby. I know,” Steve cooed. He hadn’t meant to call him that. It just slipped out. To anyone with regular hearing, it would’ve sounded like “bub,” but Peter heard it. It reminded him even more of May. Stupid cancer. He didn’t even realize he was weeping brokenly into Steve’s shoulder until he heard him shushing him as he rubbed his back. “Shh, it’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Bruce came back a few minutes later with a tray holding a bowl of ice water, the washcloth, a mug of warm soup, the antibiotics, and a small spray bottle of some kind. He set it gently on Peter’s desk, taking the cap off the spray bottle and standing near the bed next to Peter’s legs.

“It doesn’t taste very good, but it’ll help. You can use it as needed. It’s probably best to use it sitting up, though. Steve, would you mind? And I’d like to take one more look at your throat, Peter,” he said, waving a hand at the bed as he leaned over to toss Peter’s pillow up to the top. Steve moved Peter back to the middle of the bed and straightened the sheet, pulling it up to his chest under his arms. Bruce moved the chair so he could sit on the edge of the bed and pulled out his penlight, setting the bottle on the nightstand so he could cover Peter’s eyes with his left hand. He pushed his head back a bit and used his right thumb to pull Peter’s mouth open, shining the light inside. It was now a fiery red, probably from today’s events, and looked swollen. “Oh man, yeah, that looks painful. Stick your tongue out.”

Peter did as he was told, feeling ridiculous. Bruce put the light away and removed his hand, picking up the bottle and holding it almost in Peter’s mouth. He aimed the nozzle at his throat.

“It might sting a bit at first because it’s so irritated. And try not to swallow too hard. We want it to coat everything. All right, here we go.” Bruce depressed the sprayer and Peter winced, gasping when the formula hit his throat. Bruce didn’t let go, though, so he sat still for one more spray. As soon as Bruce pulled back, he swallowed and smacked his lips, shuddering at the taste. Immediately, though, his throat was numb. He looked at Bruce, wide-eyed. Bruce laughed in a soft tone. “Better?”

“Y-yeah. Thank you,” he replied. His voice was still hoarse, but he didn’t care.

“No problem. Now, you need to eat and take your pill.” Bruce set the spray on the nightstand and got up. He picked up what was a second tray from the first, legs unfolding underneath it, with the mug of soup, a spoon, and the bottle of pills. He settled it over Peter’s lap and handed him the spoon. “Take it slow, but finish as much as you can. That spray should stay intact for about two hours. The ear drops should for about 3. You gotta put more drops in about 15 minutes before they wear off, okay? And try not to use the earbuds until the swelling goes down.”

“Mm hmm,” Peter hummed, leaning over to have some of the soup.

“FRIDAY will call me if you need anything,” Bruce said as he walked out, closing the door. Steve sat on the bed, shoulder to shoulder with Peter’s left side. They sat in silence until a soft snore was heard. They both looked up. Bucky had pushed the button to put the footrest up and recline the chair. His hands were folded together on his stomach, his head leaning slightly to the right as he slept. Steve snorted a bit and Peter wheezed out a chuckle.

“This is gold,” Steve whispered, pulling out his phone to take a video. He recorded about 30 seconds, nearly falling over when Bucky smacked his lips and scratched his chest. He put the phone away and smiled at Peter. He must’ve been hungry because he was shocked to see the entire mug drained. “Damn, kid. Okay, take your pill.”

He handed him his glass of water and watched as he swallowed it with a bit of difficulty, coughing a bit. The noise startled Bucky to consciousness and he breathed in heavily, letting out a yawn. Steve looked up and smiled at him with a chuckle. Poor Bucky had only been asleep for about 5 minutes. The man ran a hand through his hair and stood, walking over to them and sitting on Peter’s other side with a pat to his knee.

“Sorry, must’ve nodded off. How you doing, kiddo?” he asked, rubbing his eyes with his right hand.

“Better. Tired,” Peter said sleepily. Bucky laid his right hand on Peter’s forehead. He leaned into it with a groan at the cool touch.

“You’re still pretty warm,” he replied, picking up the tray and moving it back to the desk, the legs folding in themselves when the sensor picked up a flat surface. He moved the bowl of water to the left nightstand and dipped the washcloth in it while Steve helped Peter lay back down, but at an incline so as to take the pressure off his ears. Bucky took his seat on the bed again after wringing the cloth out, running it across Peter’s forehead, cheeks, and down his neck. It quickly became warm and Bucky had to re-wet it twice just to get his shoulders and upper chest. Peter shivered and tried to turn away. “Uh uh, stay still, Pete.”

“Cold,” Peter tried to explain. Bucky wet the washcloth one last time before folding it and laying it on his forehead.

“All right, but it stays on,” Bucky said pointedly. Peter sighed.

“Okay.”

“Buck, go get some food. I’ve got him,” Steve said, laying on his side to face Peter, a pillow tucked under his arm.

“Be good,” Bucky instructed.

“Always am,” Peter replied, confused.

“I was talking to him,” he joked on his way out, being thumped by a pillow in the back. The door shut with his chuckle.

“I think it’s time you try and get some sleep. I’ll wake you up for your medicine,” Steve said, laying his head down on his arm. Peter turned his head to look at him.

“I don’t wanna have any nightmares,” he replied sadly, fearfully. Steve frowned.

“How often do you have them?”

“I...every night.” Steve lifted his head, sitting up on his elbow.

“For how long?” Peter looked away.

“Since...since T-Titan.”

“Peter...that was four months ago.”

“I know. They got worse af-after...after Aunt May.” Peter took a deep breath to fight off the tears. Steve nodded and reached a hand up to stroke his cheek.

“Have you told Tony and Pepper?” Peter shook his head. “God, why not?”

“I didn’t wanna bother them. They’re just dreams.”

“FRIDAY, how much sleep does Peter get, on average?”

“Approximately four hours per night, Captain.” Steve took the washcloth off and pulled Peter into a one-armed hug.

“You don’t have to deal with this alone. It’s not healthy. You should tell them. They’d wanna know.” Steve pulled back, but reached over to wet the cloth and placed it back on Peter’s forehead, laying back down. “But if you don’t want to, I won’t make you. Promise me you’ll come to me or Bucky, though, at least. Let us help you. Whenever you need anything, just tell us.”

“I promise.”

“Good. Now close your eyes and get some sleep. I know you’re exhausted. I’ll wake you up in two hours.” Peter did as he was told and Steve laid his left hand on the boy’s chest, closing his eyes and setting an internal alarm.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Good. Now close your eyes and get some sleep. I know you’re exhausted. I’ll wake you up in two hours.” Peter did as he was told and Steve laid his left hand on the boy’s chest, closing his eyes and setting an internal alarm.

This is how things went until Pepper and Tony arrived around 10 PM. FRIDAY had let them know that Peter was asleep with Steve in his room and to keep their volume at an absolute minimum. They took their shoes off outside the bedroom door and walked in quietly. Pepper put a hand to her mouth and leaned into Tony when she saw Peter and Steve: both were asleep in the dark room, the boy on his back holding onto the arm Steve had tossed across his chest. Tony put his arm around Pepper’s shoulders with a smile, kissing her temple. At that, Steve’s eyes opened and he looked at the clock. He had to wake Peter in 15 minutes for his ear drops. He then noticed Tony and Pepper and jumped a bit, not having heard them. He put a finger to his lips and pointed to Peter’s ear.

“You’re back,” he said happily, carefully sitting up. Or trying to. Peter was sticking to his arm and not letting him. Pepper giggled and they walked forward, Tony laying on Peter’s right side and Pepper sitting behind him in the curve of his knees. He handed the washcloth to Pepper and laid his hand on the boy’s forehead, frowning at the heat. “It’s been fluctuating. It’s about time to put his ear drops in.”

“Peter,” he called, stroking his hair with his right hand and waking him slowly. Peter turned his head toward him in his sleep, sniffling a bit. “Peter, wake up. We’re home.”

Peter’s eyes fluttered open and he blinked a few times. He smiled when he saw Tony and Pepper.

“Hi,” he said sleepily.

“Hey, babe, how you feeling?” Tony asked, smiling when Peter turned into him, hugging him around his waist and snuggling close to his chest after releasing Steve’s arm.

“Missed you,” Peter yawned, reaching his hand out for Pepper’s behind Tony’s back.

“We missed you, too, sweetheart,” she said with a smile.

“Looks like Uncle Cap didn’t kill you,” Tony joked as he looked down at Peter, hand still brushing his hair. Steve mocked him from the other side of the bed, having turned onto his back and placed his hands behind his head. Peter shook his head.

“He was awesome. Took good care of me.”

“Speaking of, ear drops, kiddo.” Steve opened the bottle and Peter sighed, pulling away from Tony. The man leaned over and put the first set in. Tony kissed his forehead when he flinched. They waited the five minutes before he rolled over sleepily, cuddling into Steve while he did turned onto his left side and did the right one. Peter gasped at this one and whined a bit with a flinch. The right was definitely worse than left. Steve set the bottle down and sighed, leaning on his right hand and laying his left on Peter’s head. “Sorry, buddy. Five minutes.”

Tony and Pepper frowned at each other. They knew it was bad, but didn’t know it still hurt through the drops. Bruce had made them specifically for Peter’s body, knowing he would burn right through normal ones.

“Is it the infection or the sound that hurts? Bruce showed me the formula and it looked solid,” Tony said, rubbing Peter’s back.

“Both,” Peter groaned softly.

“It just takes some time to kick in,” Steve told him as he stroked Peter’s hair. Pepper wet the washcloth and handed it to Tony, seeing the flush on Peter’s back.

“Gonna get your back, kiddo,” Tony said, gently wiping it across his shoulders and down his spine. A shudder traveled through Peter’s body. “It shouldn’t be hurting if they’re put in before they wear off.”

“J-Just the right,” Peter groaned, holding his breath through the pain. It wasn’t as bad as the first dose, but he heard every movement the liquid made as it pooled in his ears. The right ear, though, regained feeling about 30 minutes sooner than the left. In turn, pain radiated through his skull when the drops were put in.

“Breathe, pal. Deep breaths,” Steve said, relieved when Peter did as he was told. The adults could see how red his ear was, so Tony wet the washcloth again and squeezed it out as much as possible before gently dabbing it around the ear. Peter sighed and visibly relaxed when he felt the cool cloth, his muscles loosening. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter replied breathlessly. He squirmed a bit. “Gotta use the bathroom.”

“Come on, honey. I’ll help you get there,” Pepper said as she and Tony stood. They helped Peter up off the bed and Pepper put an arm around his shoulders, holding his elbow as they walked slowly. Tony reclined on the bed next to Steve and rubbed his eyes.

“I can’t believe how strong this kid is. Most would have passed out or worse by now,” Steve said, still on his side.

“Yeah, he’s pretty impressive,” Tony replied, watching the bathroom door that Pepper stood by. Steve could see the concern in his eyes. He reached over and tapped his arm.

“Hey, he’s gonna be okay. He’s seriously tough,” he said with a smile. “And he’s all about the cuddles, man. He’s like a drowning cat.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Like father, like son, I guess,” Tony said with a glint in his eye, just before he reached over and grabbed Steve in a headlock, cuddling his head close and rubbing his hands roughly through his hair.

“Get off, you leech!” Steve grunted and tried to push him off, not using his strength. He didn’t want to hurt him.

“Boys!” Pepper snapped and they immediately separated, Steve fixing his hair as they laughed. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the door, hearing Peter call her. “Do you need help, sweetheart?”

“Please,” Peter answered in a sullen tone. Pepper opened the door and found Peter slumped over the sink, braced on his elbows. “I tried to walk, but I can’t.”

“That’s okay, Peter,” she said, coming over. She saw that his hands were wet with soap, so she guided them to the middle of the sink and helped him rinse them, drying them with the hand towel on the counter. She also noticed that his toothbrush and toothpaste were discarded next to the soap, still dripping with water. It was difficult for her to see in the dark, but she’d manage. Putting her left arm around his shoulders, they slowly walked back out to the bedroom. “I’ve got you.”

Peter’s legs trembled with each step they took. He gripped Pepper’s right hand tightly in his own, being careful not to hurt her. His breathing became labored. He was just. So. Sick. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this sick. MAYBE when he got bitten. Every movement felt like it took an exorbitant amount of effort. He stopped when the room spun, about halfway to the bed, and swayed.

“Pepper, I...I don’t...” He looked up at Tony and Steve with glassy eyes while Pepper struggled to keep him upright. Tony jumped up and grabbed him under the arms, taking him from Pepper and letting him hang onto his shoulders.

“Easy, pal. I gotcha,” Tony said, crouching a bit to pick Peter up and lift him to his hip. Steve was straightening the sheet and pulling it back, laying it over Peter once Tony had set him down in the middle of the bed. Pepper had changed the bowl of water while they helped Peter get situated and sat to his right, wiping his face gently as he blushed in embarrassment.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, huddling under the sheet.

“Everything’s fine, Peter. Don’t worry about it,” she said, pushing his curls back. “Is there anything else we can do? Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“N-No, thanks,” Peter replied hesitantly. Steve narrowed his eyes as he stood to the left. He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked an eyebrow.

“Peter,” he warned. “What did we talk about?”

“T-Tell you when I need something,” Peter answered sheepishly. Steve’s face didn’t change. “I...my throat hurts.”

“Where’s that spray?” Tony said, looking around.

“Nightstand,” Steve said. “Do you need help with it, Pete?”

“Don’t think so,” the boy said honestly as Tony handed him the bottle. He stuck his tongue out and sprayed twice, groaning at the flavor, but he would live through it if his throat stopped hurting. He gave it back to Tony and let out a yawn.

“FRIDAY, how’s his fever?” Tony asked.

“Still higher than normal for Mr. Parker. The cold towel should help for now,” FRIDAY answered.

“All righty, I’ll stay with him,” Tony said as he stretched out on Peter’s left, putting his right arm around his shoulders.

“No, Tony, you guys need to go get some rest. You’ve been flying since this morning,” Steve protested.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, I missed my little Spider-Baby,” he replied, kissing Peter’s temple when he groaned at the nickname. “Oh please, you love it.”

“Honey, at least go take a shower, get changed. Then you can come back,” Pepper said, standing up.

“You gonna be all right til I get back?” Tony asked Peter, who nodded sleepily.

“Can Steve stay?”

“Of course,” Steve answered, sitting on the bed and wetting the washcloth again. Tony leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll be back, kiddo,” he said, and he and Pepper walked out of the room.

“Happy they’re back?” Steve asked softly, wiping Peter’s face and shoulders. Peter nodded with a smile. “Good. Looks like your bump is gone, too.”

They sat this way for a while, Peter fighting to stay awake, Steve wiping him down. Peter’s eyes would close for about a minute before he would breathe in sharply, waking with a jerk and looking around with panic. Steve had finally managed to convince him to try and get some sleep at about 11:30. Tony came back and Steve waved him away to get something to eat, so he went to the kitchen with Pepper, but not without a silent argument. Bucky came to relieve Steve around midnight. He took a seat in Peter’s desk chair and continued using the cloth on him. Peter began squirming on the bed, fighting an unseen monster, until his eyes slammed open.

“Whoa, calm down. You’re awake now. It was just a bad dream,” Bucky soothed. Peter grabbed his hand, eyes flitting around the room.

“Tony,” Peter whispered. His voice wasn’t as cracked as it had been all day. “W-Where’s Tony?”

“We can get him for you. FRIDAY?” Bucky called quietly. It didn’t take long for Tony to appear in the doorway. Peter tried to sit up, but Bucky held him down by his forehead with his metal arm. “Easy, relax. He’s right there.”

“You okay, buddy?” Tony asked, walking to the left side of the bed. Peter hiccuped, tears in his eyes, as he shook his head. Tony tutted and laid down on his right side, taking Peter in his arms. Peter clung to his chest, burying his face there while Tony laid a hand on the back of his head.

“He had a nightmare,” Bucky answered for Peter as he moved the bowl and cloth to the nightstand by Tony, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You guys gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, we’re good here. Go get some sleep. Thanks, Barnes,” Tony said, looking at him over his shoulder. Bucky nodded with a smile, ruffling Peter’s hair, before walking out and closing the door. Tony rubbed large circles on Peter’s back, kissing the top of his head as the boy trembled. “All right, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here.”

“I hate this,” Peter said, his voice muffled by Tony’s t-shirt. He coughed suddenly, his voice getting stuck in his throat, and clutched the back of Tony’s shirt. He hissed at the end of it, breathing heavily to try and ease the pain.

“I know you do,” Tony said gently. He picked up the throat spray and sat them both up, making Peter open his mouth and spraying twice for him before helping him drink some water. He then stacked two pillows and reclined at a 45-degree angle, patting his own chest. “C’mere, buddy.”

Peter moved to lay his head down, but Tony grabbed his arm and pulled him on top of himself, legs falling to either side. He held him firmly and rubbed his back.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, hand on the back of his head again. He didn’t want Peter too settled just yet, though. “Let’s do your drops and then we can sleep, okay?”

Peter nodded and laid his right cheek flat to Tony’s chest. Tony dispensed them quickly, knowing they hadn’t worn off in either ear yet. The ten minutes went by slowly, Tony watching intently for any sign of discomfort. There was none. He smiled and hugged him, using his left hand to lay the washcloth he’d nearly forgotten across the back of Peter’s neck.

“All done. You’re a tough little spider, you know that?” he said into his hair.

“Don’t feel so tough,” Peter murmured. Tony chuckled.

“Well, you’re sick. It happens. But you’re still tough to me,” he replied in an encouraging manner, tilting his head down to look into his face. Peter looked up at him in misery, so he frowned and crossed his eyes, making him laugh breathlessly. “There’s what I like to hear. Now, close your eyes and get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Peter did as he was told as Tony dragged the blanket over themselves. Within seconds, the teenager was finally sleeping peacefully.

Tony thought then that he just might not be terrible at this whole dad thing with Pepper, Steve, Bucky, and Bruce by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone! I hope this inspires more Peter & Steve snuggles!


End file.
